


On A Whim

by reellifejaneway



Series: Dragon Age: One-Shots [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen's desk, F/M, Inquisition spoilers, Or not, Pranks, Romantic Comedy, Sera is a bad influence, Spoilers, and lots and lots of smexy fluff, semi-NSFW, when jokes go wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reellifejaneway/pseuds/reellifejaneway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visit with Sera soon turns into a night of chaos when she and Lavellan decide that the best way to boost morale is by pranking the Inquisition’s advisors. But when Commander Cullen nearly catches them in the midst of their plotting – and implementation – of their scheme for him, the Inquisitor has to act fast… But will her intervention be enough?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Whim

**Author's Note:**

> My twisted little version of one of Sera's friendship scenes - and Cullen's fascination with desks. ;) Enjoy!

Arida cowered – the sound of Sera’s giggles could be heard all the way across Skyhold’s courtyard. Which right about now was probably _not_ a good thing. The Inquisitor rolled her eyes. The moment that Leliana’s guardsman figured out where this infernal sound was coming from their whole game would be given up. And Arida had been having too much fun; she had no intention of letting the game stop. She dealt her overly-excited companion a swift jab to the ribs.

“Do you wish us to be caught before we’ve even begun?” Lavellan hissed.

Sera covered her mouth with her slim white hand, laughing into her palm. “This is just brilliant this is,” she returned in a broken whisper. “You and your fancy breeches runnin’ around in the dirt.”

“Keep laughing and it will be a great deal longer before either of our _breeches_ do any more running.” Arida snorted quietly, pulling her knees up to her chest. “As for the dirt?” She glanced down at the trampled grass she was sitting upon, “We seem to have a great supply of that.”

This started Sera on another cascade of giggles.

To think this had all began with a jar of bees. From there it had transformed into a joke about releasing earwigs at an Orlesian Ball. That had then hatched into some scheme to lighten the mood of the Inquisitor’s soldiers. Or as Sera had put it, “make all you bigwigs up top look like people.”

Apparently being ‘people’ involved trying to sneak into Leliana’s tower at midnight to set up a practical joke. And it would have worked too – if their muttering hadn’t been overheard by the spymaster’s night watch. Arida and Sera had frozen to the spot, the prank far from complete. The moment the adrenaline kicked in, Arida had shouted to run, and they had: out through a side door, across a rampart and down two flights of stairs before stopping to catch their breaths behind a stack of crates. And here they remained, cowering in front of the requisitions store like a couple of would-be felons.

Lady Inquisitor. Lady Lavellan. _My_ _Lady._ That is what her diplomatic guests called her, no matter what other various titles accompanied it.

Heck, she wasn’t being a lady now.

Arida drew herself slightly upright, her keen eyes searching the courtyard for any sign of further incident. But the guardsman seemed to have stopped searching. He had turned about and was strolling back toward the tower. Once the door had shut behind him, the Inquisitor stood up and dusted the dirt off her suit.

“Brilliant, yeah?” Sera all but leaped out of hiding, her eyes bright with excitement. “Who’s next? What about that General of yours? Gotta wipe that stuck-up grin off his face. Walks around like he’s got a stick in his pants or somethin’.”

“You want to prank Cullen…?” Arida translated the other elf’s jive before stopping to truly take in the implications. “You want to pull a joke on the Commander of Skyhold and hope that it makes him seem more…”

“Real?” Sera finished. “Classic, right?”

“I guess that fits.” The Inquisitor bit her lip nervously, suddenly wondering if this was such a good idea.

Arida also knew that Cullen was rather… Sensitive to being pranked. One particularly appalling round of Wicked Grace with Josephine had left the Commander stripped of all but a few scraps of dignity – literally. And even then, the last of his decorum had all but been torn off as he’d made that mad dash out of the dining hall. Arida had barely contained her laughter at the time. The pleading in her lover’s eyes, silently begging her not to laugh too hard while he bolted from the room, still made her cheeks flush in amusement. But she did care for him. And despite her own enjoyment, Arida truly had felt horrified for him. Even if the loss on his part had resulted in a marvelous view from her angle…

 “Nothin’ too out there – just somethin’ to get under his skin, right? Like shufflin’ his papers or stuff. Y’know,” the blonde danced on the spot like an eager child, “None of this bigwig blah-blah ‘look at me, I’ve got a sword, do what I do’ thing. Bring him down from up top for a bit.”

_Bring him down from up top._

Arida shook her head, wondering what on earth Cullen would make of this tête-à-tête if he could hear it. After the Orlesian Masque, and the small crowd of devotees the Commander had gathered since, it was impossible for Arida to forget just how much Cullen disliked those types of environments. Especially after that noble had tried to squeeze his rear. Arida had borne the furious outburst about that little incident for _hours_. He truly had come to loathe groups, parties, or any type of gathering involving rambling chit-chat.

Something that, unfortunately, Sera produced in excess.

The Inquisitor could almost see Cullen’s keen amber eyes narrowing in confusion at Sera’s ramblings. His brows would likely taper in that way they always did when he was trying to decipher something truly baffling, and undoubtedly he would send her that stare that screamed ‘ _save me from this babble before I do something I’ll regret’._

“So we’re on, yeah?”

“What?” Arida snapped back to the present just in time to see the other elf sauntering off in the direction of Cullen’s office. “Sera – Sera wait… You can’t just…”

“You are _in_ , right?” Sera put her hands on her hips and cocked a knowing brow in Lavellan’s direction.

Arida hesitated for a split second. Then: “Alright – but give me a moment to pick the lock properly. There is a trick to the bolt.”

She knew the instant Cullen discovered their little trick that Sera would end up in trouble for it. That alone made the thought tantalizing. The Commander wouldn’t believe it possible for the Inquisitor herself to have set up the prank, let alone pick the lock to his room. Arida couldn’t wait to watch his face, to hear the frustration, to witness his pacing up and down the war room as he planned his revenge upon his prankster…

…And to know that he would never find her out? It wasn’t just tempting – it was _perfect_.

Arida raced up the flights of stairs, kneeling in front of the locked door. She indicated for Sera to keep an eye out before raising her tools to the lock.

A few moments later, the office was theirs.

Arida couldn’t help but feel strangely satisfied with herself – it felt strange to be in Cullen’s tower when he was absent.

Sera strutted around the room, her face twisted into the most eager grin Arida had ever beheld. “He’s not gonna walk in, right?”

“No. He told me he’s got a meeting until nine.”

“Right then!” Sera clapped her hands in anticipation. “What to do – the shelf? Pepper in the books, yeah? Or…” Her wild eyes roamed the office before settling on the desk. “Right! I got it! It looks old though – heavy, sturdy. Don’t know if I can shift it.”

The Inquisitor bit her lip. “Oh it’s… _Sturdy_ , alright.”

Sera’s head whipped up in shock. For a moment she just stared at Arida in awe, and then an amused chortle escaped her lips. “Cullen-Wullen,” She chortled with delight, “Cully-Wully?”

Arida covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Sera!”

“What?” The other elf retorted with a gleeful smile. “Lots of men under him. Needs a woman over him. Because positions.”

“Let’s just get on with this shall we?” Arida folded her arms and smirked.

Sera abruptly reached out and grasped a handful of old papers. “Here, gimme a hand.”

Bracing their shoulders against the old desk, the two elves managed to shift the feet just enough to prop the wadded up paper beneath the piece of furniture.

“Will it work?” Arida queried, stepping back to appraise their handiwork.

Sera leaned one arm on the table, giggling as it swayed just slightly. “That will get right up his nose, that will,” She chuckled.

Suddenly, the faint echo of voices caught the Inquisitor’s attention. And one in particular…

“This business cannot be delayed any longer. I’ll have the paperwork to you by morning – tell the other units to be ready to leave when I give the order.”

Arida straightened, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. She knew that voice only too well.

“Oh and inform our spymaster of our progress. She’ll be waiting for news.”

“Aye, Commander.”

“Sera!” Arida hissed, reaching out to snatch the girl’s arm.

“Oh shit,” the other elf cursed, her eyes darting about frantically. “He’ll have our breeches for this—”

“Mine maybe – quick!” Lavellan practically picked Sera up by the collar, shoving her toward the ladder on the other side of the room. “Up there – and by the Creators, woman, stay quiet!”

“But—”

“ _Just go!”_ Arida pushed the blonde up onto the ladder before risking a glance out the window.

Cullen stood right there on the battlement. His back was turned for now, his face masked by his fur pauldrons. He signed off on the last of the parchments his assistant was offering him. Then, he turned about.

She dove back into cover, praying that Cullen didn’t have enough time to see her silhouette in the window. Arida looked over at the ladder just in time to see Sera’s feet disappear – right at the same moment the doorknob beside her began to move.

 _Look casual._ Sucking in a breath, Arida flung herself against the nearest wall.

In stepped her Commander. He was still studying a letter as he moved to latch the door behind him, but jumped in surprise when his eyes fell upon the slender woman leaning nonchalantly against his bookshelf.

“Inquisitor?” He gaped, his brows lifting in confusion. “What… what are you doing here?”

Arida worried her lip coquettishly. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

Cullen frowned just slightly. The lines between his brows deepened, but a smile played upon his face. His eyes sparkled as he took a step in her direction. “Is that so?”

Taking a gamble, she hastened to add, “Perhaps you would rather I came back at another time…?” To emphasise her point, the Inquisitor turned toward the door.

Barely had she crossed onto the threshold before Cullen moved to intercept her. His armored physique – marvelously tall and intimidating with the addition of his fur pauldrons – overshadowed her willowy frame with ease. Arida couldn’t help but shiver as she glanced up into those keen gold eyes. And oh, how splendid it was to be gazed upon that way – as though she were the very air this glorious man needed to survive.

“I would rather you remained exactly where you are,” Cullen took a step closer then, his lip curling up artfully. “You pick the lock to my office just to see me – and you think that I’m going to let you escape?”

Her knees weakened a little and she nearly tripped over her own feet. “O-oh… But the paperwork…?”

With a flick of that gloved wrist, the parchments were sent flying away and beyond that broad desk, scattering out chaotically across the floor. “The paperwork can _wait_. More pressing matters seem to have,” His eyes ran up and down her form appreciatively, “Come to my attention.”

He closed in on her – just as a muffled thump sounded through the wooden floor above.

Cullen’s head snapped up, eyeing the boards warily. “What was that?” He demanded, his eyes narrowing.

“It… It was just a bird, surely?” Arida fumbled, her heart racing in her chest. _Oh shit, Sera – what are you doing up there?_

“I could have sworn…” The Commander’s jaw clenched and he glanced back at the Inquisitor. “I-I’m sure you’re right, but it _did_ sound like—”

Another bump, louder this time, came from the vague vicinity of Cullen’s bed. This was immediately followed by a barely intelligible curse. And then by a string of other nonsensical phrases, ending in something that sounded suspiciously like ‘ass-biscuit’.

“What in the Maker—” Cullen’s hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword. He moved toward the ladder determinedly.

Blood surged to Arida’s head, and in the split second that followed an image flitted across her vision: An image of Cullen pulling the other elf down from his loft, dangling Sera by her feet. All the while the blonde giggled like a maniac and spouted nonsensical blame toward the Inquisitor for it all. Then Arida saw Cullen, his eyes dull and face crestfallen. Would he feel betrayed, bewildered, or even angry with her? She half wondered if he would ever speak to her again if he realized...

She did the only thing she could think of.

Throwing herself between the Commander and the ladder, Arida grasped Cullen’s face with both hands and pulled him down to her for a deep kiss.

Cullen let out a startled cry, his concentration instantly shattered. For several seconds he stood deathly still, awestruck as she melded into him, winding her tongue into his mouth with a level of passion he had not expected. His hands fell away from his weapon, instead blindly seeking her waist and hovering there. With a gentle shift of his hands, he managed to pull Arida away from him, ignoring her crestfallen expression as the kiss broke.

“Of all the—!” He gaped down at her in shock, his eyes still half-lidded from the surge of testosterone that was still pulsing through his body. “What… What are you doing?”

Arida smiled wickedly, a new plan forming in her head. Reaching one hand to unclasp the uppermost toggle on her tunic, she beckoned to him with the other. “Come and find out,” She teased, moistening her lower lip in – _hopeful_ – anticipation.

_I hope you appreciate the lengths I’m going to for you, Sera._

“Now? You want to do this _now_?” The ex-Templar seemed incredulous.

The Inquisitor let out a frustrated breath. “Silly boy.” She let her hands snake down her side as they fell. “What does it look like?”

Cullen’s jaw slackened. He balled and un-balled his fist, eyes constantly appraising her. Encouraged, Arida took another step back – swinging her hips for added effect – before coming to a stop against the edge of that solid oak desk.

“It would seem, Commander, that a choice now lies before you. Either you may climb that ladder and go chasing some invisible foe that will, most likely, be some waylaid mouse and a danger to no-one. Or…” She peeled back the collar of her jacket to reveal her lily white collarbone. “Or you may come over here and attempt to claim a prize which will offer you much more peril – and immeasurably more satisfaction.”

The response was instant. Cullen’s eyes turned as black as midnight, and before Arida could say another word he was on top of her, pinning her helplessly against the desk. She let out a gasp, her small frame captured almost entirely beneath his. For a moment he stared down at her, searching her gaze for possible resistance, but when his lips captured hers in a hungry kiss, it left her utterly breathless. Weakness overwhelmed her and suddenly the thought of Sera shuffling about upstairs was the last thing on her mind.

Cullen was not only a fine man to gaze upon, but he was an admirable lover. And Arida knew that when she afforded him the opportunity, not only would he take what he wanted, but he would take it _skillfully._ His soft lips caressed hers so expertly that already she could feel her body burning for him. His tongue needed only to sweep in question against her mouth and she allowed him entrance – for a woman who claimed to be so strong, her commander had the tendency to make her incredibly weak.

“Oh _ma’vhenan_ …” She sighed, her hands threading through Cullen’s hair as his mouth changed course and worked down her exposed neck. Her speech reverted back to Dalish, the words escaping her lips before she could catch them, “ _Emma’isala sahlin na uth’revas_ …”

Cullen paused then, glancing up at her through eyes hooded with lust. “Tell me what you just said,” He whispered, pressing feather-light kisses across her jaw. “Start with _ma’vhenan…_ ”

It was then that she caught sight of a pair of small red shoes beginning their careful descent down the ladder behind them… _Timing, Sera!_ A jolt of adrenaline forced her to concentrate.

“My heart – _ma’vhenan_.” Arida sighed, deciding to take advantage of the distraction and wrapping her arms around his neck. “ _Emma’isala sahlin_ means I need you now.” She didn’t dare let her eyes flutter closed at the gentleness of his ministrations, no matter how much she enjoyed the attention. “ _Na uth’revas_ loses something – oh! – in the translation, but… Ooh…” She moaned into Cullen’s neck as his hands swept across her prone form, venturing beneath the bounds of her open tunic.

Despite her own combined embarrassment and arousal, she risked a furtive glance over at the ladder once more. Sera had reached the bottom rung now and was starting to sneak toward the door. Arida’s brow furrowed when she suddenly realized that not only was Sera staring at her in red-cheeked glee, but that she seemed to be giving her some kind of hand-signal. She could barely make it out from her position trapped beneath Cullen’s broad torso, but if she tilted her neck just a little further…

_Two thumbs up?_

Arida bit back a mortified groan.

“Tell me,” Cullen prompted, switching to the other side of her neck and laving impatiently at the bare skin there. “Tell me what it means.”

Arida blinked – was Sera pointing at Cullen’s ass?

_Yes, I’m sure you’ve got a brilliant view of both our breeches, you twit. Now get out of here!_

Arida was conflicted between trying not to give away the fact that she was exasperated to her lover, while simultaneously screeching ‘ _get lost Sera’_ with her eyes. The Inquisitor shifted, raising her gaze just enough so that she could send a fiery glare at the other elf. “It literally means ‘your freedom is eternal’ – in common tongue, the phrase is simply ‘I need your freedom now’,” she managed, shooting invisible daggers at Sera’s jovial face. “A-as I said, it loses something in the translation.”

Sera was two paces from the door – but her gestures were getting more lewd with each step.

_I’m never going to hear the end of this!_

Cullen pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the curve of her neck, relishing in the involuntary sigh it drew from her. “That sounds glorious,” he rasped, unable to pull himself away from her skin.

That same instant, Sera skipped out the door. As it latched shut behind her, Arida let out a loud gasp to cover the sound of the lock clicking back into place. Her lover jumped a little, his eyes widening with concern as he gazed down upon her.

“Are you alright – did I hurt you?”

“No!” Arida rushed to placate him just a little too quickly. Her face flushed with heat – and relief. “No… Not at all, _ma’vhenan._ ” A reassured smile spread across her face.

Cullen watched her for a moment before shifting his weight over her. He bent down to resume mapping the curve of her neck – that is, until the oak desk beneath them let out a faint groan.

“Maker, that’s never happened before,” Cullen paused, his hands tightening their grip on the edge of the table.

Arida bit her lip anxiously. _This isn’t good._ Sera’s prank was backfiring already, and it hadn’t been in place for more than five minutes. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” She told him gently, brushing her hand against his cheek. “Now – remind me why you aren’t still kissing me?”

Cullen’s eyes sparkled at this. “Of course, my lady. That needs to be amended immediately,” He murmured, brushing his lips against hers.

The Commander lifted her slightly, pushing her up further onto the desk. But Arida let out a startled squeak when the slab of oak protested once again – this time, however, it shuddered rather precariously. The movement threw Arida’s balance completely off. She scrabbled to grip his shoulders, squeezing her lips tightly shut and praying her face didn’t give away what she was thinking…

Cullen’s forehead creased slightly and he pushed himself up on his forearms. The deep line that presently appeared between his brows warned Arida that he didn’t entirely believe her facade. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m… I’m not laughing,” The Inquisitor fumbled, before suddenly realizing that she was, in fact, giggling rather conspicuously. A tear of pent-up laughter slipped from the corner of her eye. “Oh Creators. Cullen, I am so sorry.”

“What for?” The Commander was thoroughly puzzled by now.

The sheer confusion on Cullen’s features was enough to send Arida into spasms. She clutched at his shoulders; burying her face in his pauldrons for the few moments it took for her to regain her composure. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she drew back and met his dubious gaze. Then, with deliberately slow movements, she reached out and rocked her weight against the table. The desk promptly responded by pitching unsteadily and letting out a rather noisy – almost _offensive_ – groan. Arida doubled over with laughter.

“Sweet Andraste,” Cullen exclaimed, pulling away and glancing down at the foot of the desk. “I am certain that I thoroughly checked this desk for balance—”

“Oh we did. I remember,” Arida agreed, smirking up at him. She knew her cover was almost entirely blown at this point. _Might as well enjoy it while I can._

“Wait.” The ex-templar straightened up then, rounding the desk with long strides and glaring critically at the floor. “What…” He bent down, the candlelight bouncing off his blond curls – delectably, Arida thought – as he did so. “No. How did that…?”

Arida clamped her hand over her mouth, biting down on her thumb as the desk moaned one last time and clattered firmly back onto the ground.

Cullen shot upright then, his hair slightly disheveled and eyes all but burning with vexation. He thrust the handful of crushed paper in the air, giving the offending wad a little shake as he flashed it in front of Arida’s nose. “What is _this_?”

The Inquisitor bit her lip, inching away across the now-steady desk. “I honestly have no idea.”

Cullen’s eyes darkened with purpose and he rounded on her swiftly, cutting off her route of escape. “Has anybody ever told you, Inquisitor Lavellan, that you are a dreadful liar?”

“Says the pot to the kettle,” She quipped right back, the human adage rolling of her tongue with ease. “I can whip you at Wicked Grace any day. Josephine can testify to that.”

“That may be true – but let’s not change the topic.” He brandished the paper again. “Arida,” he warned in that low, growling tone that she recognised only too well, “You know who put this here, don’t you?” When the elf grimaced, her Commander pounced. “You _picked the lock_ didn’t you? You let them in!”

“Now what would I have to gain from upsetting your desk?” The rogue pouted.

“You tell me,” Cullen fumed, closing on her with that menacing glare of his. “I knew there was a side to you I hadn’t seen, but this? _This_?” He tossed the wad of paper away furiously, “This is by far the most intriguing and _ridiculous_ idea you have ever conceived. Who would have thought it? My lady Inquisitor – playing pranks on her advisor in the dead of night.” He ignored the look of pure shock on her face and swept her up in his arms. “You, Arida Lavellan, are in _desperate_ need of a dose of your own medicine.”

“And who’s going to give me that? You?” She squirmed, trying to break free of his hold.

The Commander shook his head. “Damn right I am,” He muttered, swinging her over his shoulder. Ignoring the shrieks and threats that tumbled from the temporarily incapacitated elf, he strode toward the ladder. “All night long if I have to.”

Arida could practically _hear_ the smile on his face.

She made sure to deal him a few more semi-believable punches and kicks before he finally set her down on his bed. But after it was over and she was lying snuggled happily in his strong arms, Arida couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself. If being ‘ridiculous’ resulted in this kind of treatment, then the Inquisitor would have to invent some more _inspired_ pranks for her favorite advisor…

 

* * *

 

 

The hastily scribbled note that Sera found pinned to her door the next morning, reading:

_Didn’t anybody teach you not to tease a lion?_

…Was purely coincidental.

**Author's Note:**

> I got asked to write a sequel, and I have! You can find "Sweet, Sweet Revenge" here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3189674  
> Enjoy! ^_^


End file.
